


Magnetic Resonance Imaging

by Viridian5



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Drama, Gen, Psychic Abilities, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 13:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crawford doesn’t want to have this in common with Schuldig.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnetic Resonance Imaging

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my recent MRI. Read-through by Rosaleendhu.

“Did the doctor tell you what to expect?” Schuldig asked.

“It’s just an MRI. It’ll be an annoyance for a while then it’ll be over and will hopefully give us some idea of how to treat these headaches. MRIs help _you_ ,” Crawford said. Schuldig went in for an MRI at least once a year, more often if he had more problems.

“A bit.” There was only so much anyone could do about Schuldig’s headaches. 

He hoped his wouldn’t be the same. “Telepathy is on all the time, while precognition is brief flashes, so I shouldn’t have the kind of brain wear and tear you do.” 

Ironically, Schuldig hadn’t had a bad day since Crawford’s mind-bending headaches had started. Crawford would think Schuldig had been telepathically passing his headaches on to him if he hadn’t already known that Schuldig couldn’t entirely get rid of his own head pain that way.

“You’re going to the place I go to, so the head rest will have some cushioning. Some places make you lie on hard plastic, which sucks over the course of 45 minutes. If you feel cold in there, ask for a blanket before they start because you won’t get to ask while it’s going on. It’s actually a good thing if they pack material so tight around your head that you can’t move it because after a while it’ll get hard to keep it still on your own anyway. They always lock a plastic mesh piece a few inches away from my face when they scan me, so if they do that to you it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Make sure the earplugs are in _really_ good because it gets noisy in there and, again, you can’t adjust them once they start scanning.”

“I don’t need this. I’m not apprehensive, and I’ll be just fine.”

“You’re usually the guy who wants to have all the details nailed before he goes into things.”

“You’re not being helpful here.”

“Maybe I should help the way you ‘helped’ me with this? Ignoring it as hard as possible and then getting condescending if you show the slightest hint of anxiety? Because I can do that.”

“That’s not what I do,” Crawford replied as he grabbed his jacket and went to the door. Before he could close it behind him, he heard Schuldig shout, “Telepathy helps me pass the time. I wonder if precognition makes it easier on you or harder! I guess you’ll find out!” 

  


* * *

When Crawford returned, the apartment smelled of fresh air. Schuldig had apparently opened most of the windows to let springtime in. Looking quite content, Schuldig was lying on the couch basking in a sunbeam with his eyes closed and earbuds in, lost in music, but when Crawford stood in front of him he glanced up, took the earbuds out, and asked, “How did it go?”

“It sucked. A precognitive flash on when I’d be getting out does no good if I have no sense of time because I’m pinned down in a tiny tube and the technician isn’t talking to me.” He’d felt irritatingly helpless in there.

“Whereas I just keep track of things by reading the technician’s mind,” Schuldig answered with a smile. 

“No kidding.” Having had a lot of time to think while sitting in the waiting room and inside the machine, Crawford said, “Me ignoring or being flippant about your medical issues is more about me than about you. I hate the reminder that our own bodies are betraying us and that it’ll probably just keep getting worse.” He hated admitting it, but Schuldig would be less of a bitch afterward. Probably.

“It ties into your fears about weakness and our mortality. I know.”

Argh. All that effort on his part, and for what? “Then why the hell should I have to say anything about it?”

“Because you willingly figuring out your thoughts and issues and communicating with me is a _lot_ different from me fishing out amorphous things from your mind. It’s important for us as partners, and it makes me feel better and more valued when you decide to tell me things. You should know this shit by now because I’ve _told_ you. Many times.”

He couldn’t win. He saw Schuldig’s point, but he couldn’t win. “My head hurts.”

“Is it an NSAID headache or a Percoset headache?”

“I’ll take whatever, but Percoset might be better.”

“It’s a pretty day, what’s left of it. How about you take your painkillers and then we go out to eat? Walk around a bit too and enjoy the weather.”

“Pretend to be normal?” Crawford asked, amused.

“Not necessarily. If we get in the mood for some bloodletting, we can go to the sketchy part of town and see if anyone thinks we’re easy targets and tries something. That’s always good for a laugh.”

Crawford had to smile. “Killing people for free?”

“If you’re too good for that, we could always just maim them. For free. Actually, the personal satisfaction we get out of it could be considered our payment. You know that exercise and murder always improve your mood.”

“All right. I’ll get my Percoset while you get a jacket. It’s starting to get chilly out there, and we have to take care of our health.”

 

### End


End file.
